Chapter Nine - Stag Night
The Old Bell tavern was alive with ale and light. Its merry crowd of patrons were abuzz with activity and laughter and the merry noise carried out into the streets of London. Liverpool supporters were celebrating the win and the very spirit of football was tangible in the air. To the non magical eye at least. Directly next door, and invisible to anyone who wasn't looking for it, the Green Dragon was host to an equally lively crowd.
While the muggles in the pub next door cheered around a grainy television set, the magical folk in the Green Dragon crowded around radios and over newspapers to listen back to the highlights of the qualifying Quidditch match between Australia and Spain. The match had lasted for three days after the Snitch disappeared into the eucalyptus trees and only reappeared when an unaware koala had dislodged the branches it had been tangled up in.
Janus Thickey, former banker turned barman whose adulterous deception had made headlines in 1973 when he faked his own death by Lethifold, disproven by Lyall Lupin from the Ministry even before Thickey reappeared five miles away, to run away with the landlady of the Green Dragon, weaved between crowded tables with a precarious tray full of drinks balanced on his index finger. With a wave of his left hand, four pints levitated themselves from the tray and onto the table in the corner at which sat four young wizards in jovial spirits.
"To Prongs and Lily! And most importantly to me, the best man because otherwise you wouldn't be having a proper wedd-"
"Boo! That was bloody awful!"
"Shut it!"
"No one let him speak at the actual wedding!"
Sirius' already half-drunken toast dissolved into laughter as the rest of the table immediately booed him loudly into shutting up. A well timed shove from Peter sent his chair teetering dangerously backwards on two legs. Though Sirius himself nearly went toppling to the floor, his newly filled pint still held in his right hand did not so much as splash.
Whilst life had been fraught with surprises and secret missions since leaving Hogwarts near a year ago, the time had not quite come to abandon all revelry and happiness. The upcoming Potter-Evans wedding provided a beacon of hope and happiness in an ever darkening world. While Voldemort grew ever stronger, and his followers ever bolder, Dumbledore himself had emphasised the need for light as important as urgency. So one night to forget about the Order of the Phoenix, and forget about the targets that being a member painted on one's back, was cherished by all.
For a brief few hours it felt like old times in the Hogwarts dorm, laughing and joking like there was nothing wrong with the world. They were simply the Marauders again. Though admittedly, with considerably more alcohol involved which made the already loud young men even louder. Remus could have picked Sirius' bellowing out from the otherside of the crowded bar, even without heightened senses.
Peter, whose ears were already red with inebriation, dragged Sirius back to four chair legs by his sleeve and burst into chuckles over his own barely touched fourth pint of the evening. "I can't believe one of us is going to be married next week!"
"I can't believe any of us is going to be married at all. Four of us and only one has got it right so far." Sirius interjected, taking hold of James' wrist and hoisting his arm into the air like he'd just won the Quidditch World Cup. "Good ol' Prongs, your mum and dad'll be proud-"
"-and Lily has no idea what she's in for." Remus grinned and ducked a handful of Every Flavour Beans as James hurled them at his face.
"Just because it's your birthday, Moony!"
They lapsed into companionable laughter and drink for a few minutes and Remus grinned over a mouthful of beer, until a burst of black pepper flavour exploded in his mouth and he spat it messily over the table. Peering down at his pint he saw with disgust a black and grey speckled bean floating mockingly at the top.
He had been secretly thrilled that the night they all had free for drinks coincided with his birthday. Despite James' first instinct to celebrate Remus' nineteenth birthday instead of his own stag night, Remus had insisted. He far preferred this. It took the attention off of him where he would never be comfortable enough for it to be, and rightly onto the soon to be groom. As a compromise in the end, he had accepted his own happy birthday toast at the beginning of the night, and a new pair of solid boots to replace his old pair that pinched his feet and were wearing through the soles.
The four swapped stories from school days, and Sirius and James regaled them with stories from the Auror training program, where despite being unable to use their Animagus forms, or the Invisibility cloak, they were each excelling in stealth and disguise.
As the wedding grew closer and closer and Lily and James were constantly caught up in conversations between muggle and wizarding families about the arrangements, James was visibly more lively and enthusiastic than he regularly was. Unphased by Sirius' constant remarks about his being head over heels in love, and the overhanging threat of attack from Voldemort's forces, James had become the picture of a life falling into place. Despite Lily's very best efforts, his hair refused to do the same.
The best man had scraped his chair backwards and swung his feet up onto the table. If Sirius held any bitterness about his best friend leaving the wild side to happily settle down in a house in the countryside, he did not show it at all. He had even allowed Lily, armed with scissors and a comb, to wrangle him into a chair so she could tame his head of unruly curls into something shorter and neat. This had prompted several immediate jokes from Peter and James theorising whether in canine form his fur would be better groomed as well.
Then there was Wormtail, with a thin moustache of foam lining his upper lip and hiccoughing occasionally. He had only had half the amount of liquor that Sirius had and was already turning pink while Sirius showed little more than an increase in volume and vague unsteadiness. Peter had newly moved out of his parents home and just taken a desk job at Gringotts, leaving his part time employment at Florean Fortescue's behind with some relief. His unique ability to get into hard to reach places and skill at hiding was second to none and though they could never explain why, his own usefulness to the Order had already been proved. If any of the four Marauders seemed almost wistful about life outside of school, it was Peter Pettigrew.
Remus pushed aside his pepper tainted beer and scratched at the itchy brown stubble lining his jaw as his mind began to wander. "You think anyone will ever find the map?"
"Only if they spend a lot of time in Filch's office. Even then they'd just think it's parchment." James shrugged and tutted wistfully. "Last time we tried to get it back, Peter nearly got caught."
"Never seen someone transform that fast." Sirius added a little too loudly as the passing landlady turned and cast them a cursory glance as she swooped away the empty glasses. Holding a finger up to his own lips he burst into a fit of laughter as she inevitably ignored the comment as a drunken rambling.
"Well it wouldn't have been much use now to us anyway, right?" Peter voiced and exchanged a shrug with Remus. "It was a map of Hogwarts."
"Seems a shame to leave the best jolly bit of magic we've ever done shut away in confiscated items though."
"Too right."
"How's the new job working out, Moony?"
"Great actually." Two weeks ago he had taken a position at Flourish and Blotts. It consisted largely of stocking shelves and selling books and was hardly a demanding job, but it was one which Remus could honestly say he would enjoy. Not in the least because books did not shed feathers and require feeding. Save perhaps for the Monster Book of Monsters, which was known for leaving scraps of shredded parchment around their cage. He felt in his element amongst the books, and it did encourage a certain comforting reminder of the Hogwarts library. "There's a fascinating new publication about Egyptian curses; the most notorious incident was in nineteen twenty…something, three I think," And before he could catch himself he was off on a tangent that he would normally keep to himself, "it involved mummies, a muggle, a witch and one of the Medjay. Terrible stuff, but a fascinating...read…" He trailed off eventually and felt heat flood his face at the amused expressions of his friends. Clearing his throat, Remus grinned awkwardly.
"Sorry. Well, it's going well."
"How long do you think you'll stick with it?"
His grin dimmed a little at Sirius' question and he welcomed the next round that James had waved over for them. He took a long drink in an effort to delay having to think about that too much and eventually shrugged. "Hard to say. Haven't been through-" He glanced around briefly "-one yet and it's not for-"
"A week and a half." James finished proudly and raised his glass to clink against Remus', "After the wedding, we made sure of that."
"And cheers for that!"
xxxXxxx
It had just gone midnight when four young wizards took their leave of the Green Dragon. The two black haired young men each had slung an arm over the other's shoulders, equal parts camaraderie and to hold each other up. James and Sirius, particularly the latter, had drunk substantially more than the others, although it was certainly true they both had a much higher tolerance for drink.
Fleet Street was still bustling with life as they sidled their way through a crowd of muggles, catching both sides of a drunken shouting match between a group of Liverpool supporters and a group of Ipswich supporters. Remus barely caught snatches of phrases like "Bunch of lousy cheaters-" and "Where was your bloody ref then?!", as he placed a hand on Peter's shoulder and steered him ahead until they had passed through the throng spilling from the Old Bell. Beer and smoke was all that he had been able to smell for hours and now the familiar London smog was permeating through his senses.
"Wait, where-where did Padfoot go?" Peter spun on the spot and quickly three pairs of eyes turned and fixed back onto the crowd they had just waded through and scanned for a glimpse of a leather jacket.
A hand clapped Remus on the shoulder and James sidled past with a nod toward the windows of the pub, "There." He drawled quite clearly and fixed his askew glasses. "What a surprise."
Remus followed the line of sight and immediately rolled his eyes. Sirius had been distracted alright. Amidst the merry din around them, the smooth character had sidled his way into conversation with a pair of very attractive muggle women and had taken it upon himself to offer a light for their cigarettes. Remus felt a brief ounce of panic at the sight for just a moment before his vision steadied and he saw that Sirius had in fact remembered to use a lighter instead of making flames dance from his fingers as he was prone to do.
Together they stepped back into the crowd towards the serial flirt.
"So sorry about him, ladies. C'mon mate, time to go…" James smiled, hooking his hand into Sirius' elbow and attempting to turn him around as he apologised, not for the first time, for his friend's behaviour.
Sirius resisted and shrugged off the hand with a toothy grin to one of the women as she took a drag of her newly lit cigarette. "Take it easy, James. You're the one that's engaged. I was 'aving a lovely conversation with…" And he trailed off expectantly waiting for the girls to provide their names.
The first, a dark skinned brunette with long curls and a floral peasant blouse, obliged as she exchanged a clearly amused glance with her friend, "Evelyn."
"Trixie." Her pixie-haired blonde companion added. Her vibrant red lipstick made her skin appear even whiter in the dim light and Remus caught the quick wink she sent Peter's way. "What's your name, sweetie?"
"I-I...it's uh…"Peter went pink to the very roots of his hair and appeared to entirely forget his own identity in his surprise that she was paying any attention to him at all. "P…"
"Peter." Remus assisted behind a cough.
"Peter. Right, yes. P-Peter."
"You're the one wiv the stag night then?" Evelyn asked as once again Remus and James attempted to turn Sirius around to no avail at all. "Bit young to be gettin' hitched."
"I hardly think so, thank you-"
"Best man, Sirius Black, at your service, ladies."
"Excuse me?"
"Evie, I think that's his name." The one called Trixie elbowed her friend as a long stream of smoke trailed and twirled gracefully into the night air. Remus fought the urge to cover his nose, all the second hand smoke was beginning to irritate it.
"You can't be serious. Surely?" Evelyn scoffed and gave Sirius a cursory once over with eyes almost as dark as his were.
It was most certainly the beer talking but Remus couldn't help the loud laugh that burst unrestrained from his lips at the look of sheer tipsy confusion that had blanketed Padfoot's face.
"No, no...Sirius not Shirley." He repeated, entirely genuinely.
Behind Sirius' back, the other three exchanged a look of poorly contained humour and as one all burst out into laughter anew.
"And on that…odd note…" He managed to get out coherently as he wiped away a tear of mirth and forcefully dragged the now very confused yet still determined Sirius away from the girls who were now looking at the four of them with nothing but exasperation. "Sorry!"
"Wait, wait, wait...I didn't get to mention my motorcycle!"
"Probably a good thing, Pads." Peter said between the remnants of laughter, every part of his face still flushing pink as they finally disengaged from the crowds and no longer had to shout to be heard.
"Why don't muggles ever get my name right?" Sirius lamented, staggering half a step when Remus finally let him go, confident he wasn't going to turn around and keep trying his luck. "No one ever forgets "James". Stupid parents!"
"Because it's not really a common name is it? Sirius."
"This from Sir Remus and Romulus over here."
A hearty shove sent Remus almost into a lamppost and he had to catch it and spin himself around to keep from falling. Grinning broadly he made to roll up the sleeves of his woolen jumper against the unseasonably balmy night, not aided by the several degrees warmer he naturally ran.
"Hey, hey, I just realised something!" Wormtail, his voice several decibels louder than his usually quiet tones, poked Remus' shoulder. "Moony's a wolf in sheep's clothing!"
Peter had never been the funniest or the wittiest of the group, which was a tall order when accompanying the likes of Sirius and James, but every so often he had his moments that had the rest of them howling with laughter. Even Remus found it especially funny tonight, though the wolf jokes had long since begun to grow old.
They meandered companionably along, joking and laughing loudly as Fleet Street became Strand, paused for a moment to watch as the Knight Bus sped impossibly fast between cars right by them, invisible to all non magical folk. The muggle London blended almost seamlessly with the magical London right in the hub of two very different worlds. Two worlds from which Remus had been kept entirely separate for most of his life.
The turn into Bell Yard, and towards Sirius' flat, approached quickly. His home was well placed, hardly a ten minute walk from the pub and where the four of them would stay the night.
It was Remus who stopped first. Though his head and senses were far from clear, they were still sharp and the scent he caught cut through the oil and dampness that permeated the street and the odd humidity in the air. "Stop!" He cried out when the others kept walking, unaware of his sudden halt in the middle of the pavement.
"What is it, Moony?"
"I smell-" He had hardly begun to get the words out before a scream interrupted and a body appeared from a narrow alley between two buildings and knocked him off balance. The figure, wearing a dark jumper with a cap pulled low over his eyes did not even look backwards as he charged past the group. He clutched a woman's bag beneath one arm and swore loudly as James made a mad grab for him and missed.
"What the bloody hell-"
"Blood...I smell blood." Remus finished and whipped his head back around to the alley the thief had appeared from. The four Marauders glanced at each other and an unspoken, split second decision was made. Sirius and James, immediately sobered by the sudden dire circumstance, gave chase and charged off at full speed after the man. Remus, with Peter hot on his heels, wheeled around and followed the sound of sobbing.
The woman, caught up in a violent fit of shakes and sobs, was slumped heavily against the wall, a stream of blood running from a gash along her bare leg and staining the already dirty off white boots she wore. "Get off wiv ya!" She hissed out as they approached and spat unceremoniously as she shrank away, equal parts fear and fire in her heavily made up eyes.
"Are you alright?"
"W-We want to help…" Peter stammered out, his old habit making its reappearance in stressful situations.
"I ain't need your 'elp!" Her pride was first and foremost as she wobbled to both feet and immediately swayed dangerously, the moment Remus raised a hand to try and steady her she pushed him away with a strength that he had not been expecting. "All the same, the 'ole bloody lot o' yeh. Get away! And don't you be callin' no coppa!"
xxxXxxx
A painful stitch was tearing through his side from the sudden exertion on a very full stomach, but James dared not slow down. Sirius had outstripped him and would have had a hand on the thief had he not thrown a garbage bin in the path of his pursuers and slowed them both down.
Magic was out of the question, there was too much risk of being seen, but perhaps. There it was, a chance turn into Bell Yard, a place familiar enough even in the dark, gave him the opportunity. With a cursory glance over his shoulder, James spun on his heel and Apparated to the other end, just in front of a building of flats inhabited by solely magical folk and to the muggle eye appeared derelict and uninhabited. He darted to the side of the building, out of sight and hidden by darkness as the pounding of feet on pavement drew rapidly closer.
Just as Sirius had lunged close enough to get a hand on the flying strap of the stolen bag, an elbow flew out and caught him in the side of the head. A few choice curse words flew from his mouth as Padfoot began to reach for his wand, securely tucked away behind his back. If the muggle didn't see what happened, it wouldn't really count. He reasoned but just as he drew it to jinx the fleeing culprit, a terrified shriek of shock sounded from up ahead and the vagabond went flying backwards straight into the wrought iron fence across the way and slumped in a dead faint.
Panting heavily, Sirius jogged to catch up and despite the gravity of the situation, howled with laughter when he caught on.
"Bloody hell, Prongs. You didn't have to take "stag night" literally!"
James and Sirius returned, both panting heavily and slightly red in the face but victorious as Sirius held up the stolen bag. Thin flakes of fake leather were cracking and peeling from the strap and stuck to his skin as he stepped toward Remus and Peter, both lingering a few metres away from the distressed victim. The blonde's eyes narrowed as they approached, and looked on the verge of taking off a heeled boot to wield as a weapon.
"I said leave me alon-"
"Here, here! We got it back for ya." Sirius quickly explained, holding out the retrieved belongings as a gesture of good will.
She staggered a step forward and fresh beads of blood began to run anew, and snatched her bag back with such speed that even Remus barely saw her arm move until she had it in her hands and was rifling through it. A little of the fierce anger went out of her, though none of her pride did, as she found everything untouched. Dark eyes flickered between each of the four young men twice as she sniffled loudly and wiped at her face, smudging already running makeup.
"Fanks, I guess." Just like that the moment of gratitude was gone and replaced with a fresh moment of panic, "You didn't go callin' no coppa, right?" She snapped her eyes back to Remus "Ya mates didn't go callin' no coppas?"
The four wizards exchanged a quick glance, and Remus was sure they were all thinking the same thing. That none of them had muggle money for a telephone and that only one of them would really know with any certainty how to use one anyway. There was an unfortunate air of relief that she did not seem to want help.
"No. No we didn't." James confirmed and the woman released a tense breath of relief through her teeth. She straightened up, albeit wobbly in an attempt to regain her pride and stiffly nodded to them.
"Good. Don't."
"W-wait, you need help. What happened?" Peter protested first as she made to limp by them.
The laugh that answered him was short, bitter and empty of any humour. "Could you be any greener, kid? You ain't been 'round London long, 'ave ya?" Without waiting for a reply she adjusted the faux leather jacket she wore which was stained on the shoulder, and brushed him off brusquely. "Unless you got a ciggy I ain't need your 'elp."
Wordlessly, Sirius reached inside the pocket of his jeans, withdrew his packet of cigarettes and offered them to her. "...fanks. Now be off wiv ya."
Something was not sitting at all right with Remus. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end but though he was trying to sense something, anything, he could smell nothing more out of place in a London alley than the fresh scratches she had sustained. Turning, he found James staring right at him, the slight beginnings of a frown on his face. Remus shrugged, the silent exchange confirming that James too was uneasy about this, but the absence of any scent, magical or otherwise, had him stumped.
"I said be off wiv ya. Scram." And the determination in her voice as the glow of a freshly lit cigarette cut through the darkness, was enough to make Remus nudge Peter and the four of them wisely step backwards.
Any further help was clearly unwanted, though the looks on his friend's faces told Remus they were no more comfortable leaving her like that than he was. He cast the last look back as they were about to round the corner, straining his eyes to see anything in the shadows. But there was nothing.
When she was safely left alone, the lit cigarette fell limply from the muggle's fingers, and landed with a soft hiss against the pavement. Her glazed over eyes were slowly beginning to darken even more, and narrowing just the slightest amount. An hour had passed since the small flask in her handbag had emptied of its contents. Bit by bit her messy blonde hair began to darken and curl again until the thin band of rubber holding the messy bun in place burst under the strain of the hair that had suddenly doubled in volume. The woman tossed her head back and a vile grin split her lips as they returned to their usual shade of black lipstick. She shrugged off the hideous jacket as it grew tight against her considerable figure her body had returned to and carelessly tossed it aside.
She reached down and drew from the back of her boot a curved wand made of unyielding walnut wood.
"Pathetic little heroes." Bellatrix Lestrange crooned as she smirked after the young Order recruits. She could not fathom what it was about the Potter boy, to say nothing of his mudblood betrothed, that had her master so determined to turn him to their side instead of killing him and his little band of Gryffindors outright. Yet despite his open defiance months earlier at the Leaky Cauldron, the Dark Lord was gracious enough to insist on one more offer.
Her cousin on the other hand, it had taken everything within her not to give away her Polyjuice disguise and slaughter the blood traitor where he stood. How dare a real Black sully the good name of their family and flagrantly oppose everything they stood for? Thoughts of her own sister and her half blood spawn flickered unbidden through the Death Eater's mind and Bellatrix quickly banished them as she ground her teeth together in anger.
With an air of disgust she let the ratty handbag that had served its purpose drop to the ground and reached down to drag her wand along the self-inflicted gash on her exposed thigh, knitting the flesh back together but not bothering to wipe away the blood. It too had served a vital purpose to distract the werewolf she knew was among the group, undoubtedly the scarred and sad looking one, from sensing the real carnage all along.
Lestrange, née Black, flicked her ebony eyes one last time toward the pile of bricks and rubbish that littered London's alleyways. There, beneath the rubble lay the lifeless body of the muggle courtesan, her corpse now cold and stripped to provide the disguise that was necessary. But as far as Bellatrix was concerned, one less filthy muggle in the world was never a shame.